


A Cure for Nightmares (NSFW Manorian)

by Rhysand_vs_Rowan



Category: Throne of Glass Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: F/M, Manorian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-01
Updated: 2017-07-01
Packaged: 2018-11-21 19:45:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11364342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rhysand_vs_Rowan/pseuds/Rhysand_vs_Rowan
Summary: Manon and Dorian get busy in a cabin in the woods (It's a smut fic, we all know you're not here for the plot).





	A Cure for Nightmares (NSFW Manorian)

**Author's Note:**

> There are a couple of lines referring to events at the end of "A Court of Wings and Ruin". Above and below that small section of the story you will see warnings outlined in ***************. It's quite skip-able without impacting your enjoyment of the story at all :)
> 
> Kinks for anyone who may need a trigger warning: Bondage, wax play, light masochism, manual ball-ring (Warning: IRL use with extreme caution, preferably not at all), and more bondage.
> 
> Thank you to Feyre-Archerons-Scrapbook.tumblr.com for beta-reading!!

##  **A Cure for Nightmares**

“What  _exactly_  is supposed to be in there?” Dorian studied the cottage from high up, hidden among the branches and leaves of an old oak tree. The sun was close to setting, and in the gloom it was becoming difficult to see.

Manon was on the branch below him, her entire body tensed and ready for a fight, “A very old and very powerful witch who  _might_  be able to help us find the Crochans.”

“And we’re hiding because-“

“-she’s also said to have quite the penchant for witch-blood.” Manon shot Dorian a teasing glance, “Though I’m sure she’d be willing to settle for royalty.”

“Thirteen are what- setting camp?” That was what bothered Dorian the most.

He thought they were only landing for a break, but Manon quickly met with Asterin and Vesta, listened as they discussed  _where_  this cottage was, and waved both their Queen and Dorian off as though for a picnic. An all-powerful witch who had a penchant for eating other witches- and they sent Manon and the usurped King of Adarlan in without so much as Abraxos for support?

The cottage  _looked_  inviting enough, which only made him feel more ill at ease. It was buried deep in the woods, miles away from where the Thirteen had landed, and yet it looked…  _homey_. A small well sat out front with a low roof to keep leaves out of the water, there were ropes wound around smooth river-rocks to hold down thatch that was nearly in need of replacing, and white pebbles formed a courtyard that wound around the well and to the front door.

The trees hid it from wyvern eyes. Dorian wasn’t sure  _how_  Asterin even spotted the place. Of course, it could be that the old witch was notorious enough to not bother with some dank cavern stronghold or a massive keep filled with slaves to do her bidding.

He supposed if he was a evil he would choose the same setting. A cavern was cold, wet, and had only one easy exit. Ventilation would always be a problem and carrying food or firewood deep into your home would be annoying. A slave-filled keep was too full of people. It would be easy for an assassin or spy to slip in-

-plus all Aelin would have needed to hear was ‘all-powerful’ before she decided to take on the witch bare-handed and probably for nothing more than the hell of it.

No, a cottage in the woods was perfect. Out of the way, hidden, with water of its own and the bounty of the forest to feed her and keep her warm. It was ideal for someone even an immortal would call ‘very old’.

“My mother told me a story once, when I was very little.” He whispered to Manon, “It was about a mythical world where a goddess of death found herself trapped forever. She was considered a beast in that land, nothing more, and so she embraced it. She built a cottage deep in the woods, thatched the roof with the hair of those who dared disturb her, and wove their flesh and bones into bolts of rich fabric. As she worked, she would become young and beautiful again.”

“What happened to her?” Manon raised an eyebrow.

“According to the story, she decided to fight in a great war on the side of a King of Dreams and died. But by the time the other army killed her, she was young and radiant as ever.”

Manon huffed, “That’s stupid. A goddess of death confined to a cottage? And killed on the battlefield? How do you kill a god of death in their own domain?”

“It’s just a story.” Dorian made a face.

“Well, shall we go ask if this is  _that_  cottage?” Manon jumped lightly from the tree and waited, grinning like an alley cat. The far less durablehuman king  _climbed_  down.

Dorian had chosen to belt Damaris to his hip rather than over his shoulder. He kept the scabbard pinned to his leg with magic as he scrambled down from one branch to the other. It made it harder for him to move, but he was more used to the placement. If a fight broke out, he’d need the sword in hand as quickly as possible.

Manon stocked boldly for the cabin door and Dorian rallied his magic around them, shielding her from any surprise attacks. She didn’t hesitate when she got to the old wooden door- the Crochan Queen simply grabbed the handle and turned.

There was no one inside the cabin.

There wasn’t much of anything, really.

They stepped into a room that had nothing more than a fireplace, a low chair, and a cabinet with some basic cooking supplies- not even a table to be found. There were a few plates, some pots, and a spoon. It didn’t look like anyone lived there, it looked like-

A light flickered near the back and Manon strode for it. Nothing in her gait was measured or tense. She was at ease, and the look she threw over her shoulder was  _playful_.

Dorian followed her across the worn stone floors and stopped at the open archway, understanding at last that he’d been played for a fool.

The bedchamber had been prepared. Bread, some fruit, and several long tapers cast light in the gathering darkness from that missing table near the center. It was a large space, open and inviting, with a wardrobe against one wall, a mirror nearly as tall as Manon standing in the corner beside it, and a large bed piled high with soft blankets.

Manon barely contained her laughter at the annoyance on his face.

“This is some kind of rest house, isn’t it?” He forced his smile down as best he could and tried to look indignant.

“It’s an old hunting cabin, a safe place for wandering witches. Every decade or so someone comes through and cleans it up. Asterin noticed we’d be passing close by and offered to set something up.”

“That’s very kind of her,” his smile slipped its leash.

Manon’s face grew serious, “You haven’t been sleeping- it’s the nightmares again?” Dorian’s smile vanished. He looked away, “Your friends are gone, I understand what that feels like. Tonight- whatever you need, whatever you want, it is yours.”

She didn’t just mean sex, Dorian understood that. It was the offer of old comforts- a thin trapping of the world he came from. A real bed, a roof overhead, and privacy away from the eyes of thirteen other witches.

“Your people value strength,” Dorian’s voice was soft, “they can’t know- I’m not-“

“Strength is a measure of someone’s character,” Manon stepped closer and put a hand on his chest, “it has nothing to do with how well they block out emotion. You  _are_  strong. You’re just lost, and all of us have been lost before.”

“ _You_  responded me when I acted like an arrogant prick.” Dorian forced a small laugh to show he was trying for her.

Manon’s smile returned, “I responded to a puppy realizing it knew how to bark.”

He stared at her, his breath hitching ever so slightly, “When do we need to be back?” He stepped even closer.

“Some time before midday tomorrow,” she said. “You need to let yourself relax a bit. I know a very good cure for nightmares.”

“And what’s that?”

“Exhaustion.”

Manon pulled Dorian’s hand to her hip, giving him silent permission. She wrapped her arms around his head and trapped his mouth with her own. Slowly, Manon let him draw her closer. She opened her mouth ever so slightly as Dorian’s tongue began to trace the seam of her lips. She waited until he’d had a taste to bite down lightly on his lip.

He growled in approval as Manon’s breasts pressed against his chest and her hips began to grind softly against him. Heat began to build throughout his body. His muscles became too tight and loose at the same time.

 _More_ , Dorian’s body screamed,  _more._

Manon’s tongue slipped into his mouth and Dorian shivered. When the witch chuckled, he fired back by bracing her spine with one hand and pressing hard on her core with the growing bulge in his pants. She gasped softly and it was  _his_  turn to let out a breathy cackle.

At last, he broke the kiss.

“No,” Dorian said in a husky voice. Manon’s hand stopped before she could unbuckle her own riding leathers. He traced invisible fingers up the backs of her thighs as ones of flesh worked to free her of her clothes.

Manon sighed as those invisible hands tickled at her skin. Her breasts were already peaked when Dorian pulled away the front of her armor.

Dorian smiled as he tossed her leathers aside and took one such breast in his mouth. He nibbled at it through the fabric of her shirt and Manon stood just a little taller. Those invisible hands tightened, holding her arms at her sides, but she arched her back to get closer to his mouth.

A large hand slid up the front of Manon’s shirt to deliver a pinch to her other nipple. She pushed against the hands holding her as she gasped. Dorian pulled away and once more seized her mouth with his. The hand slid away from her breast. Before Manon could protest its absence, Dorian broke their kiss, yanked her shirt up over her head, and used the fabric to steer her to the wall. Manon let him pin her against the stone as he pushed her moon-white hair aside.

“I’m going to make you scream,” she promised, breathless as he moved to suck on the nape of her neck.

He laughed and spun her around, crushing her against the wall. Dorian eased the shirt off her shoulders and down her arms, “I’m going to make you scream  _again_ , and  _again_ , and  _again_ ,” he whispered. A shiver caressed her body. Dorian took the ends of her sleeves and began to wrap them around her wrists, using the shirt to bind Manon’s hands into fists and pin them back.

He licked gently up her spine while those invisible hands undid the belt of her pants and slid them down. Manon groaned as he left a trail of bites and kisses along her spine all the way up to her shoulders. She shifted so that her boots and pants could be freed from her legs. Dorian’s magic sent them to the far side of the room.

His hands left her wrists once she was secure and both slid to her hips. Manon rocked back off the wall as one hand wrapped around her stomach and reached to cup a breast. Only the fingertips of his other hand touched her as it found its way down her front far too slowly. Dorian brushed the short, groomed hair of her mound, swirling it idly for a moment. He moaned against her as his hand cupped that heaven between her legs and he felt the heat already rippling from within.

Dorian rolled a nipple in one hand and left a trail of teasing kisses along Manon’s neck. He rocked the middle finger of his other hand, parting her skin and opening her body to him. Manon strained again and her face flushed as he pressed against the small bundle of nerves at the apex of her legs.

“Are you ready to start screaming yet?” He traced his lips along her ear.

Manon’s laugh was a breathless half-groan, “You wish.”

He chucked and abruptly pinned her harder against the wall. His hand slid forward and Dorian quickly hooked two fingers inside her, “Already so wet.” He grinned at the cry of pleasure that broke from Manon, “Are you  _sure_  you’re not ready to scream?” he curled them and lazily rocked his palm against that bundle of nerves. Wrapped as they were, Manon’s hands managed to grasp his belt as her panting became a series of short sighs.

“No? That isn’t enough?” Dorian teased and delivered a few quick thrusts with his hand. He rested his thumb on those nerves and angled his body to the side so that he could reach deeper. Manon’s legs parted further to allow him access. His penetrating fingers reached deep until they found  _another_  hidden bundle of nerves and began to rub across it. Manon cried out and he braced her with his magic as her knees buckled, “Still not enough to make you scream? Hum, maybe this will get results…”

Dorian dragged his fingers through her velvet center as he pulled his hand away. He quickly grabbed Manon’s arm and spun her to face him. He pressed her back against the wall with his body and grinned at the pink stain across her cheeks. Her breath was ragged as he slowly brought the fingers that had been inside her to his mouth.

Mischief filled Manon’s eyes and just before Dorian’s tongue could taste her, she leaned forward and sucked both fingers into her own mouth. Dorian  _tried_  to look annoyed, but his hips rocked forward of their own accord at the feeling of her licking her own juices off of him. She smiled and sucked harder at his hand. Her head bobbed slowly. He was mesmerized for a moment by the sensation her mouth upon his hand caused in the increasingly tight folds of his pants.

“You stole my treat,” he breathed at last. Dorian slid his hand out of Manon’s reach and made a show of studying the fingers. With his other hand he grabbed her chin and held her in place. Dorian crushed Manon’s mouth against his. He pulled down on her jaw, opening her so that his tongue had full access to her mouth. He didn’t withdraw until she began to kiss him back, “You didn’t leave me any there either.” Her rested his forehead against hers and breathed hard.

 _More_ , he needed  _more_.

They both did.

“I guess I just have to go to the source, don’t I?” Dorian put a bar of air beneath Manon’s breasts to hold her as he slid down onto a knee. He kept his wet hand over the breast he had yet to play with and used the other to roughly lift Manon’s leg over his shoulder. Without waiting for her to adjust her footing, Dorian hooked his arm back over her thigh and spread her lower lips.

“ _Dorian_!” Manon threw her head back as he latched on to her nerves and began sucking them into his mouth. She writhed against the wall and he began to alternate between sucking on the ultra-sensitive nub and smoothing it back down roughly with his tongue. She felt every ridge and bump of that muscle as he traced all around before sucking once more as though he could draw her taste out through that knot.

His response to her cry was to shrug her leg off his back and pin it forcefully against the wall. Dorian pulled his hand from her breast and slid it back inside to work in tandem to the ministrations of his mouth.

Manon’s panting cries were pitched as she watched the King of Adarlan between her legs. She fought to free her arms, desperate to grind his head against her hips. Her back arched and a wordless shout escaped her as Dorian bit lightly on one bundle of nerves while his probing fingers returned to the other deep inside.

“Tell me what you want,” he pulled back.

“ _More! Harder!_ ” She jolted as his fingers continued to slide in and out. Manon’s toes curled and she rocked onto her heel, “ _More!_ ”

“Say ‘please’.” He grinned and used his tongue to burrow back to the nub that made the powerful Witch Queen scream.

“ _Please!_ ” Manon tried to push her hips to meet Dorian’s tongue, but the invisible band holding her against the wall slid down her torso, completely immobilizing her.

It was like being on fire- feeling that pleasure and knowing she could do nothing to build it. Dorian gave her what he chose, she could take no more than that.

“Let’s see how loud you can scream,” he backed away just long enough to say those seven words before driving in with renewed vigor- and an extra finger. His invisible hands both began to pinch and smooth Manon’s nipples as another cry was wrenched from her.

“ _Dorian! I’m-_ “ she began to tense and he increased the pace of both his hand’s thrust and the pressure of his tongue against her core. The more her body stiffened, the harder and faster he worked. Manon’s head rolled to the side and she at last was forced to tear her eyes from his. Her breath came in jerking gasps.

He felt a slight catch in the muscle around his fingers as the very first ripple of a climax shuddered through her. Dorian quickly released her leg and replaced his tongue upon her knot with two fingers of his other hand. He slid his mouth down to the hand frantically pumping into Manon and nipped at the base of her entrance.

Manon’s scream was loud enough to wake the dead. Her legs both gave out as the climax ripped through her and Dorian extended the force holding her to them as well- but only so that  _both_  were pinned, giving his fingers and tongue room to probe deeper. Juices flooded his mouth as her body quaked and she screamed again- maybe even his name. Dorian did not stop moving his hands- all  _four_  of them- as Manon tried to writhe and lost all semblance of rational thought.

Wave after wave of spasms wracked her body. The pleasure was all she knew. She was molten and erupted onto Dorian’s tongue until at last a titanic shudder marked the end of her orgasm. Her lover coaxed her back down- releasing her breasts first, then the nerve between her legs. He slid his fingers gently from her hyper-sensitive core.

Manon’s breathing was ragged and she continued to moan as he gave one last lick. His magic slid her down to the floor and into his lap. He undid the knots on her sleeves with his power and freed her arms at last. The shirt sleeves had succeeded in holding her wrists, but during her climax those iron nails had extended and shredded almost everything else.

He turned her so that she sat across his folded legs as she panted and twitched with the phantom remnants of her climax. Dorian traced cold, magic-laced fingers along her ribs to help revive her even as he licked clean his other hand. She sighed happily and Dorian’s heart nearly burst at the sound. He kissed the top of her head and rested there a moment, savoring the smell of her and the juices still fresh on his tongue.

“I screamed,” she breathed against his chest.

“You did, very loudly.” Dorian teased.

Manon just laughed, a music of its own, “The first one’s easy. It’s the second you’ll have to work for.” She pushed off him and sat up slowly, wincing as the cold stone pressed against her too-sensitive base, “I’ll make you scream louder.”

That spark of mischief sent a thrill through Dorian.

 _More_. His body needed to feel hers. He needed her skin against his, no more simple playing-

-but now it was her turn. Dorian made her cry and wail as no man had been permitted to before, she would return that favor and remind him of her might.

Manon pressed her body against the king as her mouth met his once more. The kiss was slow and deep, but there was no missing the iron length of him still confined in riding leathers. His hands combed through her hair as she slid a nail across the front of his britches. Dorian moaned.

“Do you want these off?” she whispered with a grin.

Dorian smiled, “It might make things easier for you.”

“Don’t forget little one,” Manon teased, “I’m far,  _far_  older than you are. I know things you haven’t even considered.”

“Oh? Go ahead, take them off and  _enlighten_  me.”

Manon’s hands slid up to undo the buttons and clasps of his jerkin. She tossed it aside and pulled his shirt up slowly and deliberately, just as he had hers, even going so far as to slide the fabric down to his wrists. She didn’t intend to stop there, but a shiver wracked through Dorian’s body and she froze.

“Manon-“ his voice was suddenly unsure and breathless, “I’m sorry, I- I can’t-“ she read the terror building in his eyes and put a finger to his lips.

“I know. Throw it to the wall.”

He swallowed hard and put as much space between himself and that shirt as a throw could manage, “I’m sorry.” He breathed again and looked down at his wrists, trembling.

“I know, and if you ever feel uncomfortable, tell me to stop. I never want you to feel you  _have_  to do anything.” Her eyes lit once more and she held his wrists up to her lips, planting a delicate kiss on each, “Unless I tell you to, that is.”

Dorian raised an eyebrow and pushed back the old fear, “Oh?”

“Get up.” Manon slid away and stood. Dorian grinned at last. He leaned forward and rested his hands on her legs. When he stood, he locked eyes with her and came up slowly. His face was hardly an inch from her skin and when he got to her hips his tongue darted out for one more brazen lick- a sign he was able to play once more. Manon flicked his ear and smirked as he stood nose-to-nose with her.

“Well?” he breathed, “What shall I do next?”

“Go stand in the doorway.”

His grin faltered, but it was confusion that showed, not fear. He studied her face as he backed away to the empty arch.

“Put your hands on the stone.” She let his eyes caress her naked body as she walked to him. Dorian braced his hands on the stone beside his head. His forearms rested against the opening and that smile returned when he realized Manon’s game.

“I will never bind your arms- especially not if there’s a door nearby.” She traced an iron nail along the side of Dorian’s nipple, circling idly, “Keep your hands there unless I say you can move them.” She tipped her head up and opened her mouth for him.

“Or else what?” he leaned in for Manon’s kiss and let out a soft yelp as her iron teeth slid down  _into_  his lip. It was a small hurt, and she licked the blood away before breaking their connection.

“Or else  _that_  happens.” She stepped back to give him a good look at her fangs before retracting them. “You’ll want to keep your hands under control, princeling.  _Especially_  once those teeth are around anything sensitive.”

“I am a  _king_  you know.” He chuckled and Manon came close enough for him to feel her breasts against his chest.

“Kingling doesn’t sound very nice.” She slid her leg between his and gently rubbed her thigh against his cock. Dorian hissed and grabbed the stone with both hands. “Good  _princeling_. Keep the other set up there as well.”

Dorian was panting already as he nodded.

Manon slid down to her knees the same way he’d stood- her eyes locked on his and she remained close enough that those firm breasts slid across his chest and stomach. Her lips gently sucked and nipped at him along the way.

His belt was dispatched quickly enough, and Manon even allowed Dorian to send a cushion of air to carry Damaris into the corner of the room. Once that was out of the way she pulled off his boots but only  _loosened_  the ties of his pants.

Dorian bit down on the small wound in his lip when Manon licked across the front of his leathers, tracing his length beneath. She sucked a lace into her mouth and used her tongue to pull it through the guiding loop. The leather cord wound back and forth across itself several times and before unthreading each loop, Manon licked him.

When she could see the hard edge of him through his exposed britches, Manon sucked at it through the fabric as he’d done with her breast. Dorian moaned loudly and when she looked up she noticed his knuckles were white where he gripped the doorway.

Once Manon decided his pants were loose enough, she grabbed the top of his britches and pulled the lot of it away. Dorian stepped out of them and watched her with lust-glazed eyes. She opened her mouth, leaned towards the head of his cock, and-

-at the last second Manon stood without so much as her breath touching his length.

She walked over to the table with a chuckle and plucked one of the tapers from its holder. Manon turned back to him with a wicked smile and Dorian felt the thrill of fear lance through him.

“We’re going to play a new game.” Manon said sweetly. She pressed her breasts once more against his powerful chest and looked down. Their nipples just barely touched. She brought the taper between them and tipped it just far enough to splash hot wax across their joined skin.

 _Both_  hissed at the sensation.

“Do you like it?” Manon tipped another small stream of wax across their joined skin before righting the taper. She felt his cock twitch against her, “Oh? You  _do_  like it?” his thundering heartbeat pounded into her breast and she stepped back. Manon watched those sapphire eyes go wide as she held the taper over his other nipple and let several fat drops land, “So naughty for a King.”

“Kiss me.” It was a command- or plea- Manon willingly obeyed. She let the cooling wax squish between them as she moved both arms behind his torso and ran her tongue across his lips. He bit down hard on her as heat mixed with pain once more. Dorian released her and threw his head back, “Gods above, woman!”

While he was focused on her mouth and the feel of her breasts, Manon poured wax across his rear.

She responded by swaying her hips against his and sucking upon the nape of his throat, just where he’d licked her. Dorian began to moan once more. Manon continued her slow grind as she dripped wax across his back and shoulders. She leaned away from him but kept herself pressed against his hips as she let the wax splash onto his chest and even stomach. Her breathing hitched with each twitch that ran through him.

After several minutes, he only moaned when the wax hit him.

Manon threw the taper into the empty hall where it quickly died down. Dorian bit his lip again where her tooth cut him, now savoring the pain that fueled the fire building inside.

“Freeze it.” Manon ordered. Dorian barely had to think about the thin wave of ice he sent out to harden the wax. She brushed it away easily from both of their bodies- though her hands spent an awfully long time kneading the granite muscle of his backside as wax slipped away.

“Since you enjoyed that so much, I’m going to do something else.” She knelt before him and blew cool air along his shaft. Dorian could barely feel his hands anymore as he gripped the stone, “Dorian, can you lock your feet or hips in place?” The command left her voice. This wasn’t part of the game, it was a sincere question.

“Just not my arms, yes.” He sent lashes of power around his torso and secured them to the wall. His feet he anchored in stone, “There.” He breathed, “Like I walked into a web.” She didn’t chastise him for the way he stretched his fingers and wrists- assuring himself they were free.

“Perfect.” Manon rested her hands on Dorian’s hips and pushed hard.

He didn’t budge.

“Good, princeling,” she leaned forward and kissed just above the base of his shaft. Dorian sighed. Her eyes met his as she reached down and whipped the pad of her thumb over the aching head of his cock. Dorian’s whole body jerked at the wave of sensations that rippled from just that touch. Manon smiled and continued to rub across it, spreading growing droplets of moisture around the head.

His eyes bulged as Manon tipped his erection up and ran her tongue along the bottom of his length. He let out a moan at the feeling of her mouth upon him, and the sight of her kneeling between his legs.

“Don’t start screaming already,” Manon smiled and slid an iron nail behind his balls to lightly scrape over his thinnest skin. While she gave him that small pain, she continued to rub her thumb across his head and used her tongue to prepare his length from the side. Her eyes locked with his as she worked, delivering sharp pinches and soft bites in equal measure. His hands shifted on the stone and Manon pricked his skin with a nail. The warning was only just hard enough to draw blood.

“If you say ‘stop’, I will.” Dorian barely heard Manon as he threw back his head and fought the rising pressure inside his body. Manon wrapped her hand around the top of his balls and Dorian let out a soft cry.

Her thumb vanished and wave of pain slammed through Dorian’s groin the same time she took him fully in her mouth. He shouted roughly and tried to twist away as her fingers pinched savagely at his balls, cutting of his  _ability_  to find relief even if he wanted.

“Manon!” His voice was unsteady as pain wracked his body, “ _Manon!_ ”

Unless he said to stop, she wasn’t about to. She hummed as she took as much of him into her mouth as possible. She focused on bringing him as much pleasure as possible to counter the pain.

“ _It hurts_ ,” he hissed, but already the sensation of her mouth around him and the vibrations of her humming were warring with that pain. Dorian looked down as her head bobbed and she began using her free hand to stroke whatever she could not fit in her mouth. It was complete agony- those fingers pinching into him.

“Don’t stop,” he groaned at last when she slowed to check on him. Manon pulled her mouth away for only a moment to take a breath and kiss his bulbous head before returning to her work with vigor. Dorian could only curl his toes and gasp as the pleasure in his cock began to override her vicious grip.

Pain and pleasure crashed over him as he felt himself throbbing. Her hand prevented the release his body was  _trying_  to take and Dorian shouted as she adjusted her pace so that every bob of her head warred with the pulsing agony. It took him higher and higher each time. If his legs were free, he would have thrashed. As it was his hands were  _shuddering_  against the frame. His magic had wrapped around them for protection and now he gouged the stone.

“ _Manon_!” Dorian screamed over the blood pounding in his ears, “ _Manon! Let me_ -“ she released him immediately and moved both hands to hold his rear as she picked up her pace. She rose higher on her knees, the angle giving her the ability to take just one more inch.

Dorian only lasted a few thrusts down her throat before he screamed her name one last time and came with a monumental roar. His hands ripped through the stone and Manon caught them by his wrists as she swallowed around him. She held Dorian’s hands away from her head and continued to suck the hot cream away as fast as his body pumped it into her. He couldn’t buck his hips, he couldn’t hold her head as he slammed into her, all he could do was moan and cry at the pure pleasure ripping through him with each spurt.

At last, his own orgasm subsided. She released his shaft with a gasp and let go of Dorian’s hands.

He severed the connection of his magic ties and slid to the floor much as Manon had- utterly spent.

“You screamed louder,” she wiped an escaped bit of seed from her cheek and sucked it off her fingers. Dorian was still gasping for air when he grabbed her head in his hands and gave her a deep, hard kiss.

“I screamed louder,” he agreed, breaking the connection. “Where did you even  _learn_  that?”

“Innish,” she named a city in Melisande, then laughed, “Well, from a man who learned it there at least. Remind me to pick up some leather cords- it’ll be more comfortable.”

Dorian laughed, “I’m surprised you let a man teach you anything like that. When I met you, you took  _eye contact_  as a challenge.”

“You benefitted from those eyes.”

He took her little shove as a chiding tease and refused to dwell on the darker edges of their first meeting. She’d been the light through his cell bars, the key in the lock, and the whispering reminder of an outside world he’d long forgotten.

Dorian traced a finger along her jaw. “Besides-“ Manon continued, “I watched him teach his wife how to do it. When they were  _thoroughly_  engrossed, I climbed in through the window and ripped out their throats.” She batted her eyelashes with mock innocence.

“I keep forgetting you’re half-demon, witch.” He joked. Manon’s past was evil and bloody, but seeing as the Valg inside him had done things that would make  _her_  fearful, he refused to hold it against her.

“Should I remind you again how much a demon I am?” she smiled wickedly and pinched two fingers at him.

Dorian huffed, “Maybe  _that_  part can wait for another night. For  _special_  occasions, at least until I’ve figured out how to use my healing magic on myself.” He winced and moaned slightly, “Nights when I  _don’t_  have to worry about sitting on a wyvern the next day.” It wasn’t going to be pleasant.

Manon chuckled, “Each time we stop, I will kiss it better.”

“I’ll be sure to drink plenty of water to rebuild my stamina.” Slowly his body was beginning to revive. If the peaks of Manon’s breasts were any indication, she had already recovered from her own climax.

“Does the princeling want to move to the bed?” Manon asked, “It’ll be much softer on his  _injury_.”

Dorian growled and kissed her once more, “Bed yes, soft-“ he sighed as she brushed her knuckles along his shaft, “-not for much longer.”

They stood and Dorian pulled Manon against him. Her breasts crushed against his chest as he wrapped his arms around her shoulders. She held his hips against hers, but did not grind along his length. Manon and Dorian simply savored the feel of one another. He kissed her slowly and she breathed in his scent. Dorian held her as he began to sway side to side, dancing to a waltz only he could hear.

She let his graceful rocking slowly edge them closer to the bed, more concerned with the feeling of him in her arms, their combined taste in one another’s mouths, and the peace of that quiet cottage than of her need for  _more_.

Always  _more_.

Manon felt the bed against her thighs and she let Dorian lift her into his arms. She wrapped her legs around his hips as he slid onto the bed and gently laid her down.

Their kiss became deeper still as Manon brushed his dark hair back from his face. He rested on his forearms above her and felt that pulse beginning again inside him. Together, their breath hitched as Manon rolled her hips, sliding her mound along his shaft. They groaned when it split those lower lips and raked across her knot. Dorian stroked her sides and flicked her nipples with his power. Her coos of pleasure only brought a smile to his lips.

Manon continued to lightly roll her hips until Dorian’s pelvis began to press down harder to hers. His member slowly awoke from its exhausted slumber. She reached between them and wrapped her hand around it once more. Dorian began to pump his hips softly, helping her bring it back to life.

 _More_ , their bodies whispered together,  _more_.

“Look at me,” Dorian broke their kiss, “I want to see your eyes as it goes in.” He wanted nothing more than to watch her face in that moment.

She took him more firmly in hand and waited for him to edge back. He brushed white hair off her sweat-damp forehead as Manon pressed the head of his cock to her entrance. He pushed forward, she raised her hips back up, and after a moment the head slipped inside her.

Manon’s eyelids grew heavy as he eased his length in further. She spread her legs wider and kept her hips angled to give him the best access. Dorian moaned and bit his lip as Manon’s silky heat enveloped him.  _In, in, in_  he went, filling her as their breathing turned to shuddering gasps and her spine arched. Those golden eyes never left his.

On one another they read the ecstasy each gave and received. They marked the trust, respect, and maybe even love that burned hotter than their pleasure. What they did that night was more than simply  _fucking_ \- it was something that meant more on every level, a change in the relationship they had established so far.

Dorian bottomed out and he held Manon still, letting that warm vice adapt to his girth as his hands combed through her hair and he memorized every inch of her face- the way the candlelight flickered in her eyes, the smell of her breath as it mingled with his, and the way she looked at him with more tender care than he might once have thought her capable of. Manon read all the same things in his eyes. He brushed his fingers through her hair again. She rested a hand on his cheek and used another to push his bangs back from his face.

With their bodies finally connected, Manon and Dorian simply rested a moment to watch and touch one another, to feel the skin of their partner and the curve of muscles beneath. He rocked his hips ever so slightly, but only to see the way goosebumps rose across her skin. Still, it began to stoke that simmering glow back into a flame.

She rolled her hips just enough so that her body rubbed against his balls and that mischievous light reappeared in her eyes. He still ached where she’d forcibly held off his release, but that reminder of pain made this pleasure all the sweeter.

He slid back far enough to risk falling out and thrust into Manon, watching her as her entire body responded to his movement. Dorian kissed her again as he continued his long, slow thrusts. Manon brought her feet up to rest on his calves as they both began to moan into one another’s mouths. His pace remained deliberately slow as she rolled her hips to meet his thrusts, but the force behind those thrusts began to build bit by bit.

After several minutes Manon began to pant and he released her mouth. He pumped into her faster at last. Invisible bonds locked her feet in place and pulled her hands from his head and neck. He pinned them with a magic web beside her head and rose up over her.

Dorian grabbed her hips and lifted them to meet his thrusts. The slap of his flesh against hers was matched in volume by Manon’s moans. She gasped when he reached between them and pressed hard on the knot at the apex of her thighs.

“I want to feel your release,” he whispered, thrusting harder with both hand and member.

Manon nodded and stopped resisting the rising tension throughout her body. Dorian worked her with hand and cock in concert as she let the climax build.

“ _Dorian_!” once more she screamed his name as her walls clamped down on him and her body writhed beneath his invisible bonds. A fresh scream tore through her as he continued to thrust, riding out her orgasm without so much as a pause. It took everything in him to not allow his own release.

He slowed his thrusts and bent to suck on Manon’s breasts as she came back down. She laughed, “Release me.” He obeyed and her legs slid off his. Her hands returned to his head and she shuddered as Dorian continued to move inside her, the white-hot pleasure simmering for now.

Manon tapped his shoulder- a silent command- and Dorian wrapped his arms tightly around her. She gasped as he rolled to take her place laying upon the bed- his cock sliding even deeper into her in the process, “You screamed again.” He smirked. Dorian rested his hands on her hips as she began to grind against him- to see just how deep he’d go.

“It was worth it.” She breathed.

“I love watching you.” Dorian smiled.

“How many do you have left?” she rose above him for proper leverage and began to sweep her hips across his. Manon rested her hands on Dorian’s thighs and looked down to watch him splitting her lower lips as she impaled herself on him.

He moaned at the sight, “After what you did to me in the doorway?” he looked to the ruined stones, “One more, then I’ll need some food and half an hour if there’s  _any_  hope of a third.” She clenched her muscles hard around his shaft and he hissed.

His hands pulled her down harder and harder each time she rose up. When her pelvis met his, she rotated her hips and sighed as he stretched her. Dorian held her a moment and carefully worked his middle finger to rest inside her along his shaft, pulling her open even further. Manon continued to ride him until he moved the hand upon her hip higher and began to thrust up even as he yanked her back down.

“There is one more position I want to try before you finish,” she panted as she angled him to press against that inner bundle of nerves, “tell me when you’re-“

“I’m close enough that we should adjust if you want to enjoy it.” That throb from where Manon had pinched was sending jolts of pleasure through him. He pulled his hand out of her and swept a thumb across her knot one more time.

Manon grinned and slowed her pace. She slid off him and leaned down for one more kiss, “Stand up.” She shifted out of his way as he obeyed. Dorian stroked himself as Manon turned and faced away from him on the other side of the bed, “Bring that over.” She pointed to the long mirror in the corner by the wardrobe. Dorian summoned it with a wave of his hand and angled it so that he and Manon would be able to watch one another.

“Bind them, then come here.” She bent over and wrapped her hands around her ankles, leaving herself fully exposed. Dorian obeyed and swallowed hard in anticipation of the new opportunities this position afforded. He lashed her hands soundly and crawled over to kneel between her spread legs.

“You don’t want to finish on top?”

“ _You’re_  the one who needs to be thoroughly exhausted.” She laughed, “Trust me, you’ll be making it up to me another night.”

“One last question,” he inched closer, “how many more do  _you_  have left?”

“One,” Manon’s body lurched forward as Dorian’s tongue slid into her, “ _fine_ , two if you’re good enough.”

“Well, we cannot go into this on uneven ground, can we?”

Manon would have clawed the sheets if her hands were free. Dorian’s tongue ran from the bundle of nerves between her legs and into her depths before working its way back out. “Don’t worry about me,” she moaned into the blankets, “three is  _plenty_. You don’t have to wait.”

“What’s one more pinch going to hurt?” Dorian bit at the nerves and continued to work Manon over- soon adding those fingers back into the mix. Manon forgot to ask what he meant when he wiped his hand through her flowing juices, wetting a  _fourth_  finger. He eased it slowly into her as she cried out- very nearly  _too_  full. His fingers hooked towards her deep, hidden nerves.

Dorian twisted the hand within her and used his thumb in place of his mouth against her mound. Manon rocked in time with him and bit the sheets as her iron teeth slid out. He sent a vein of air to wrap just under her hands, protecting her feet from the talons Manon was rapidly losing control of. She threw herself back on his hand and he shoved her forward again with the rapid force of his assault. Her cries turned to wordless screams as he raked his fingers across her buried nerve endings.

He felt her tense more and more, and it only encouraged him to go faster, dig his fingers in harder, and bring his other palm up to replace the thumb upon her core. He whipped his hand over it and panted with the pace and force as Manon’s building pleasure overrode even her ability to scream. At the last possible moment before that tension ripped her apart, he struck.

When he bit down hard on her rear, Manon exploded.

Unlike the previous climaxes, Dorian did not continue to stroke her as she rode the waves. He pulled his hand quickly out and when she rocked back to follow it he rose and rapidly thrust his entire length inside her.

Dorian wrapped both hands around her hips as Manon threw her head back in a fresh scream of pleasure. He pumped in and out of her with as much force and speed as he could muster. His hands yanked her roughly back onto him as her eyes rolled and her breath turned into loud gasps for air.

Just hearing her climax- and feeling a good deal of it around his cock- brought him far too close if he was to last long enough to draw that  _fourth_  climax from her. Dorian took a thread of his power and wound it around where Manon had pinched his balls. He dug into that tender flesh just as she had, but with a bit less finesse. He screamed and bucked erratically as the pain slammed over him. Last time he’d been pinned in place, now every thrust was freshly pitched agony as he swung beneath the invisible clamp.

Oh, but it felt  _so good_!

Manon’s gasps for air were quickly becoming passionate cries. She managed to lift her head far enough to see him in the mirror. She was a woman who’d slaughtered men with more power than this one, a warrior with a heart of ice who walked in blood and death for a  _century_ \- yet this king was the only one she’d ever known who she would  _gladly_  encourage to restrict and bind her. The only man she would bend over or kneel down for.

“Come for me one more time, witchling.” Dorian managed to moan through incredible pain and pleasure.

Manon was beyond words, but she nodded as he slammed into her, pulled out, and yanked her back again. Those hands she could not see began to pinch and stroke every erogenous spot on her body. Her body began to shudder and shake as that world-ending tension built higher and higher than before. It was as though her muscles were quaking with the force of him-

-until white spots danced in her eyes and a bolt of lightning ripped her apart.

When the first scream tore from her he severed the painful magic holding back his own release. By the time she erupted in violent spasms, he was shouting his pleasure too. Her velvet inside gripped him tight, pulsed around him, and milked wave after wave of hot seed. At some point, even as her body shook and gasped for air, Manon fell silent.

Dorian collapsed onto her back and released her hands as they were both reduced to gasping, shuddering, twitching piles of flesh and bone. His hips still bucked slightly of their own accord. Her inner walls still clamped down on him- though now as though they were encouraging him to  _leave_. Her pulsing muscles were reduced to a quivering tremble. After several moments, Dorian regained the ability to move long enough to (gingerly) ease himself out of her.

Manon shuddered at the sensation and Dorian rolled her towards his chest. She grinned feebly, eyes more closed than open as she rallied her body back under control. Dorian wasn’t sure she made it through the last world-shattering orgasm conscious. He wasn’t even sure  _he’d_  made it.

“Come back to me, witchling.” He breathed and combed her hair from her sweat-slick face, “Come back.” Ice danced off his finger tips and he lightly raked them across her neck and shoulders.

“I love you,” the whispered words were accompanied by a few twinges of phantom pleasure that arced through her like dissipating lightning.

“I love you too,” he rested his head on her breast and listened to her heart hammering as wildly as his.

“That was-“ Manon laughed weakly, “that was  _incredible_. Thank you.” She knew- even lost in the lust-haze- what he’d done to last long enough for her.

“Now we’ll  _both_  be flying sore tomorrow.” Dorian laughed.

Manon rested a hand on his naked thigh, “Now at least whenever I have to kiss  _you_  better, you’ll be returning the favor. How many did I take?”

“Four. Four fingers.” They were still slick as he reached up and traced one across her lips.

She nipped at his fingertips, then groaned, “You’d  _better_  get on your knees to make up for what that will feel like in the morning.”

“Happily,” Dorian planted a simple kiss between her breasts and sat up, “do you need me to  _carry_  you to the bathroom to clean up?”

“Prick,” Manon punched his chest half-heartedly. She moved to rise and fell back with a groan, “Yes.”

“No more tonight.” He promised and lifted Manon from the bed.

They barely managed to bathe and only had the strength to strip away the damp top blanket of the bed before exhaustion swept both away. Through the night, like a shield against the dark, Dorian held Manon tight against him. Her scent and the feel of her naked body against his was more than enough to keep the nightmares at bay.

He woke with her kneeling at his side, her mouth latched around his length once more. She smiled and he helped shift her mound over his head. While she tasted him, he gladly massaged her deliciously sore entrance with tongue and hand until both found just one more release together in that peaceful cabin.

Later, when they stumbled all the way back to the clearing, sore in more ways than either had ever been, Asterin only greeted them with a smirk. The rest of the Thirteen were trying their best not to look at the pair as they shuffled towards Abraxos, fighting through the dull ache to walk as normally as possible. The wyvern- either responding to his mistress’ obvious discomfort or perhaps just to be an ass- lowered itself further than usual, minimizing how much climbing they needed to do to reach his saddle.

Manon took one look at that saddle and gnashed her teeth at Asterin. It snapped whatever control the thirteen had on themselves. When Dorian and Manon took off into the sky, they were followed by the laughter and jeers of those cruel women-

-Abraxos’ saddle was lashed with cushions.


End file.
